


Things You Can Tell Just By Looking At Them

by SpookyBibi



Category: Glee
Genre: Dirty Dancing, Flirting, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Romance, Surrogate, public make out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-05
Updated: 2014-08-05
Packaged: 2018-02-11 20:03:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2081328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpookyBibi/pseuds/SpookyBibi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s the little things. The details, the ones that get noticed by random people over time. A look, a line, a gesture. Together they create the map of a relationship. They become the qualifiers, how two people can be described by an outsider, together and separately.</p>
<p>Sometimes they reveal more than previously thought. When noticed they teach as much about the beholder than they do about the observed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Things You Can Tell Just By Looking At Them

**Author's Note:**

> This was a prompt for the Kurtofsky Gift Exchange, 2014 edition.
> 
> Prompt: When Kurt and Dave get together they act a lot more affectionate in public than Kurt and Blaine ever did - even if Dave is a little shy in the beginning - so it's the first time their friends and families are really confronted with a gay couple and come to some interesting and surprising conclusions/realisations.
> 
> Note: Imagine a season four that has the Klaine breakup but also Dave coming back and reconnecting with Kurt, no Adam (sorry!) and most importantly no Klaine reunion. This story starts after that season.

It's the little things. The details, the ones that get noticed by random people over time. A look, a line, a gesture. Together they create the map of a relationship. They become the qualifiers, how two people can be described by an outsider, together and separately.

Sometimes they reveal more than previously thought. When noticed they teach as much about the beholder than they do about the observed.

…

**Finn/Rachel**

The loft is crowded but quiet, as usual. The roommates are almost always in these days, the rush of finals leaving them little to no free time and when it does, they lack the energy to do anything besides crashing on the couch.

Which is exactly what Rachel and Finn are doing. The Saturday is dwindling away, there's been shopping and rehearsal in the morning and now it's nice, relaxed, until Finn breaks the silence.

"It's gross," he groans under his breath. Yet he's still staring at the two guys sitting at the kitchen table, just a few feet away. "Like, really gross."

Rachel, swift like the wind, digs her elbow into his ribs. "Finn, you can't say such a thing!"

She hisses, he grunts in pain and protest, but neither moves from their cuddled up position on the couch. Ever since they got back together, there's barely been an inch between them at all times, even disagreeing ones.

"Well it  _is_ ," he murmurs, nodding at Dave and Kurt. The evidence.

"I see nothing wrong," Rachel replies with a huff.

There really isn't. To her eyes, it's all right, and normal. Dave and Kurt, head bowed down and studying. Kurt has a final in his History of Modern Theater class on Monday and Dave is putting the finishing touches on the term paper for his Advanced Economics class. They're focused on their computer and books, exchanging glances and a comment here and there.

A scene they've seen several times now. It's familiar. It's mundane.

"They're just studying, what's the problem?" She scoots up the couch, wiggling in Finn's embrace, until she has a better view. "I can't see it."

Finn, with an eye roll, leans closer to her ear. "It's like… Really gross, them, you know?"

"Ugh Finn,  _really_?" Her voice gets down to a dangerously low tone. "I can't believe you are still… They're gay, so what? My dads are too, and David is our  _friend_  and Kurt's your brother now, seriously…" She tenses in his arms. "So what they're hanging out with us, it's never a problem. Pfff, I'm so disappointed in you right now…"

Finn turns his head, towards the table then Rachel, panicked. "What? No, that's not what I meant!"

She bristles and crosses her arms. "Then explain yourself. What is so gross that you can't even look at them, hum?"

Finn sighs, rearranges their position on the futon so that they're both halfway turned in the direction of the kitchen. "Wait," he whispers in her ear. "Wait… Ah, there!"

He squeezes her hand, she squints and… "Oh… Oh. Okay."

She sees it. It's... It could be… In a way, yes, it's kind of disgusting. The longer she looks the more it is.

Dave starts it all. A few glances, up from his laptop, aimed at Kurt's bowed head, each one a little longer than the one before. Each one lingering, becoming more of a stare than a brief look, and with a different expression too. It's casual at first, interested but not overly so. Then on the second look Dave's smile grows, his eyes widen, and the blush on his cheeks is unmistakable.

The third one is the one that really kills it. It never strays, takes in every detail that is Kurt. The smile turns pensive, the eyes sparkle… It's not lustful, not really.

Rachel squints, biting her bottom lip as she observes Dave. She's seen this look before. Fondness. Utter and complete fondness.

"It's…" she murmurs. She doesn't finish, because Kurt jumps in and… It's worse.

Kurt's eyes travel more slowly. They divert from the books, to the table, to Dave's hand, up his arm and finally locking with Dave's gaze.

"Hey," Kurt says softly, lips curling up playfully.

"Hey." Dave's reply is like an echo, in tone and volume.

A weirdly placed greeting, in the middle of a staring contest. Finn and Rachel hold their breath, waiting for more, fascinated.

"How's the essay going?" Kurt asks. His hand, that was holding his chin, drops to the table, inching towards Dave without reason.

"Not bad, I just have to format it now." Dave shrugs happily. "I might be done before you." His own hand crawls on the table, like metal to Kurt's magnet.

Kurt arches one eyebrow, his fingers rap playfully on the worn wood of the table. "Is that so? I read incredibly fast, you know. I only have one chapter to go."

By now their fingers are grazing, nudging, pushing. It's a lazy battle they don't even seem to realize they're engaging in, one that Finn and Rachel watch with rapt attention.

"Want to bet?" Dave says. His grin is blinding and he traps Kurt's fingers between his thumb and his index.

"What's the fun of betting if I already know I'll win?" Kurt's hand squirms in the gentle grip, Dave doesn't fight and soon enough their hands are tangled and… They're holding hands, basically.

Dave chuckles, eyes still on Kurt, never looking away, never losing the glint in them. "I could… I can find something interesting to wager." His thumb strokes the back of Kurt's hand, with more confidence in the touch than in his voice.

"I could be interested." Kurt's voice drops to a throaty, teasing level.

Rachel waits for a second, just the time it takes for Dave to break into a giggle, honest to God giggle and squeeze Kurt's hand. She scoffs and turns back, Finn following her lead.

"Oh… You were so right," she murmurs, snuggling closer to her boyfriend. "They're so gross. That flirting… I mean it's sweet but way too much at the same time."

"Right?" Finn whispers loudly. "I can't believe Dave is so smitten and showing it like that. I mean, rein it in or something."

"Oh really?" Rachel quips.

She pulls out her phone and starts flipping through the picture library. "You know, I thought I saw Dave's expression somewhere… Ah!" She shoves the screen in Finn's face. "Santana took this a while ago and sent it to me," she explains with a victorious smile.

It's a little blurry but nevertheless clear enough to carry her meaning. Finn, slouched in the armchair, head turned towards Rachel standing in front of him. The smile he wears is beyond his usual goofy grin, it's soft, tender. Even in the unflattering light, it's easy to see the sheer happiness on his face, the obvious love that shines through his eyes and entire expression.

"You're just as gross as he is, sweetie."

Finn's cheeks turn a deep, adorable crimson and Rachel can't help leaning and kissing him lightly.

Behind them Dave and Kurt have yet to let go of each other's hand but they don't have a public anymore, so it doesn't really matter. They're free to enjoy the moment.

Between kisses returned eagerly, Finn owns up to the fact that while Dave is an unexpected sap, well, so is he.

**Burt**

Kurt has his mother's features. Same nose, same crooked smile. Same thick hair. From early on Burt has learned to look for the Hummel side in Kurt's personality, in his courage, his desire to help others, his refusal to compromise instead of some physical traits.

Burt also sees a part of himself in Kurt's ability with cars, the one thing that helped them bond over the years, up to this day. Even with college, the New York lifestyle and the gigs, Kurt finds a couple of weeks during the summer to come back home and inevitably ends up in the garage, helping out as much as he can.

This year is no different. Kurt has both hands deep into the motor of a Tacoma, checking the spark plugs one by one, humming a show tune unknown to Burt. It's a quiet Tuesday and with Kurt working on the only car in the shop, Burt can enjoy a break, under the pretense of balancing the books.

He's staring at rows of numbers, his mind on the lunch that awaits him (Carole said he could have a BLT with the B) and little else, when the back door opens slowly and the scraping of worn hinges bring him back to reality.

Dave takes a couple of hesitant steps inside, waiting for an acknowledgment. Kurt, buried under the hood of the car, is oblivious to his arrival so Burt, from his seat in the office, nods to invite Dave in.

He should really return to the task at hand, as boring as it is but that's it. It's boring. Plus there is still the matter of getting a clear read on David and his relationship with Kurt. He's seen a little, what was needed to realize that the "We're friends, Dad." story was no longer accurate, but not enough to really know where they stand, and he's worried. Kurt is an adult, but he's still his little boy, with his notions of romance that were stomped on by Blaine. It warrants a little paternal curiosity regarding his new boyfriend. Observing Dave walk up to Kurt, shy and cautious, it's not a matter of concern but he remains wary, until he sees more.

"David? What are you doing here?" Kurt asks excitedly, jumping down from the car.

Dave, hands shoved in his pockets, shrugs. "I just wanted to see you, Mrs Harris doesn't need me today so I thought we could go out for lunch or something…"

"That's so sweet! You have impeccable timing too, I'm about done here and as you can see it's not exactly rush hour here and-" Kurt exclaims. He takes a bouncy step forward, Dave retreats accordingly. "What's wrong?"

Dave points at Kurt's hands. "Your… You've got oil all over…"

Kurt examines his hands, admittedly filthy. They clash with his overalls, barely stained, in typical Kurt pristine order.

Burt hides a chuckle behind a cough. He still can't grasp how Kurt manages to be so capable with cars and keep himself so clean at the same time.

He expects Kurt to scramble for the rag and wipe his hands. Any second now.

"So?" Kurt wonders with a shrug. He stretches his arms in front of him, clenches and unclenches his fists.

Dave frowns and so does Burt, who leans forward a little to better witness the scene.

"So?" Dave repeats. "I mean Kurt, if we're going out, you should clean up."

"Is that so?" Kurt smiles more brightly, and keeps on moving forward.

"What are you doing…" Dave adds slowly, and takes another step back.

"I just find it amusing, you know," Kurt says, walking with a calculated slow pace towards his boyfriend. "You're not the one getting fussy about these things, usually…"

"Kurt…"

"It wouldn't have anything to do with that, very nice by the way, white shirt you have on, now would it?"

Dave nearly trips on a toolbox and shakes his head. "I…"

"I love that you're making a valiant effort in fashion's name but you don't have to be so careful."

Dave glances in Burt's direction, a look that Burt avoids by returning to his work. He's still all ears though.

"Your dad is right there…" Dave hisses.

"Aw, where's your sense of adventure, David?"

Burt's breath hitches in his throat.

_Burt opens the door only to find a set of keys being jiggled in his face. "Up for an adventure, B?" she asks, tilting her head to the side._

_"_ _Ellie…"_

_Elizabeth laughs out loud and laces their fingers before he can react. "Come on, Burt." She tugs him out of the house, complaints about school and parents ignored. "You, me, Susan's car and a beautiful day. It's a road trip we won't forget."_

_She was right. He still hasn't forgotten that day, the lake they discovered a hundred miles or so down the road, the mid-day skinny dip she convinced him to take, or how his clothes slid down the bank and into the water and he had to spend the ride home in wet jeans and a disgusting and clingy shirt._

"David…" The teasing tone is the same, and Kurt struts forward confidently, just like his mother used to when she had mischief on her mind. "Maybe you'd feel more comfortable if our outfits matched?"

Dave lifts his hand in hopeless defense, his back to the wall and a wobbly smile on his lips. "Kurt, don't…"

"Don't, what? Do this?" Kurt, fast as lightning, pokes Dave's side, leaving a very visible stain on the shirt. "Or this?" His fingers dance up Dave's chest and draw an abstract pattern on it.

"Kurt…" Dave chuckles. His feeble attempts to swat Kurt's dirty hands away are no match to Kurt's resolve.

Kurt's own laugh is unrestrained and he keeps on, ruining Dave's shirt and tickling him mercilessly. Before long Dave is laughing just as freely and both boys fall into a mess of limbs, ruined clothes and reddened faces.

"Resistance is futile," Kurt says between pants, grabbing Dave's collar and pulling him for a kiss.

"Okay, okay," Dave breathes out shakily. He relents, wraps his arms around Kurt and returns the kiss.

Burt, looking away, smiles to himself for many reasons. Mainly because Kurt is happy, more than he thought, and because Dave is nothing but good for him. And no threat, clearly.

But also because this part of Elizabeth lives on, through Kurt. The whimsy, the impulsive, what brings some color and unexpected fun in a relationship. It's a wonderful surprise, to see that Kurt takes after his mother, and not just physically.

With his foot Burt pushes the door completely closed, leaving the couple to its fun. He knows they'll be fine on their own, just like he always was with Elizabeth.

He still shakes his head, once. "It was a nice shirt."

**Sebastian**

The atmosphere at  _Industry_  is electric. Throbbing, diverse music that seeps under the skin and awakens the nerves, a décor that's part warm brick walls and part steel accents, both warm and exciting… It's no surprise it's such a popular spot, and fits Sebastian and Dave's tastes.

Somehow His Royal and Stuck-Up Highness Kurt Hummel is not against the club, a pleasant surprise.

"Nice of your princess to deign coming with us," Sebastian drawls, as soon as Dave slides into the seat next to him.

Dave shrugs, happy, frustratingly so. "Nice to have a night out with my best friend and my boyfriend. He likes it here, I told you so, I don't know why you keep saying he doesn't."

"Please. This is the hottest, classy yet sexy bar in town, Hummel is way too proper for this place."

"You wouldn't know, this is the first time we're coming here, the three of us."

Out of the corner of his eye Sebastian can see Kurt make his way towards them with their drinks, sliding through the crowd of dancers with poise. "Oh," he says, "I think I can imagine."

Kurt, graceful like a ballerina, sticking out like a dainty finger among the sweaty, writhing bodies. Sebastian watches him move around with a sneer, until Dave bumps his shoulder.

"Stop it."

Sebastian has an innocent shrug, that doesn't fool Dave in the slightest.

"I really wish you two could be friends," Dave sighs. He looks over at Kurt and smiles, waving to direct him. "Or at least that you could be happy for me."

"I am," Sebastian protests. "But I just…"

"No buts," Dave interrupts. Kurt reaches their table at that moment and delicately puts all three glasses on the wobbly top.

"There. Now the evening can truly begin," Kurt announces.

Dave smiles brightly, kicks Sebastian under the table until he smiles too.

"To a great night," he says with minimum enthusiasm, lifting his glass.

After a couple of sips, Dave puts his glass down and grabs Kurt's hand. "Come on, let's dance. Seb, when you find your groove again, you'll join us?"

Sebastian rolls his eyes and gives them a sarcastic nod, his face still buried in his drink. He'll never understand what his best friend sees in this guy.

Sure, Dave has been happy lately. So happy it was tiring. But it's Kurt, Ladyface, precious Kurt.

Sebastian has seen Dave through the end of high school and the first year of college, through countless nights, most of them wild, thanks to an increasing confidence in his friend.

So to see him settle down with Kurt is like seeing someone pick plain vanilla at the ice cream parlor. Long-lasting crush or not, Kurt is not nearly exciting enough for the Dave he knows.

"How is he not bored?" Sebastian wonders to himself, sipping his drink slowly. His eyes wander through the crowd, he notes a couple of interesting (and interested) guys, files them in his "maybe" folder. His trained stare finds Dave easily among the dancers.

Dave has a smile on, not surprising, and hips swaying in perfect rhythm. Over the years he's learned to love losing his body to the music and Sebastian is quite proud that his lessons have borne fruit.

None of it is new. No, what makes him gape, and put his drink down with a clumsy hand is Kurt.

He's seen Kurt dance before. Competitions, as a Warbler and a member of New Directions, and last month Dave dragged him to a showcase where he was featured. But he's never seen him like this.

Kurt is circling Dave with a ravenous look on his face, and a grin that is all play and no joke. Mere brushes at first, his body touching Dave's as if by accident, his hands meandering for a second, retreating, fingers flickering on his zipper, his collar, his belt, the hem of his shirt. It's hypnotic.

Because it's unusual, that's what Sebastian tells himself. It's different. Yeah, that's it.

He toys with his glass, forgets to bring it to his lips. Kurt is plastered against Dave's back now, hands splayed on his chest, mouth teasing the shell of his ear. And it fits, so well. Dave is fully into it, hands reaching back for Kurt's hips, for a proper grind. Kurt has a devilish smile on, bites gently down Dave's neck and spins away.

"What the…" Sebastian mutters.

Kurt's hand is a snake, slithering back to Dave, up his chest and yanking him forward. Their lips meet, frantic already, and the kiss is anything but timid. It's a filthy display, one to rival, no, surpass, the ones happening all across the dance floor.

Kurt detaches himself from Dave, and Sebastian can hear their panting from where he's seated. Or maybe he's just imagining it, while fixating on their heaving chests and heated cheeks.

They don't stay separated for long, Kurt stepping ever closer, sliding down Dave's body and coming back up with disconcerting confidence, his palms touching him everywhere. They are staring at each other, eyes bright, mouths stretched into smiles that carry a happiness that's tinted with arousal.

"Fuck." Sebastian shifts on his seat, reaching down to readjust himself in his pants and… "Fuck," he repeats, his hand flying off his crotch as if it'd been burned.

He's half-hard. And he can't stop staring at Kurt, who's now completely wrapped around Dave, engaged in the heaviest, sultriest make-out session he's ever witnessed, one leg hooked around Dave's calf. Yet he's still moving in sync with Dave and on point with the music. Hips are grinding, subtly but intently.

What do you know. Kurt, that precious Hummel boy, can actually be fucking hot.

Sebastian's mouth is dry like a desert, his scotch completely forgotten. All he drinks in is the show Kurt is putting on. Using Dave like a pole, Kurt falls into more intricate moves, fluid and sexy, almost falling to the ground but coming back up in a flash and  _how does he even bend that way_? Head thrown back, face flushed, Kurt turns around and grins at Sebastian, his tongue darting out to moist his lips with a cheeky swipe.

He knows.

Sebastian tears his eyes away only to make eye contact with Dave. Dave who's sporting the same smile, one eyebrow arched, the smug bastard.

He knows too.

Looking away changes nothing, he's aware his cheeks are bright red and that everyone can see it.

When he dares looking up again, when the heat leaves his face and the flush of arousal has subsided, he finds Dave back at the table, victorious.

"So?"

Sebastian shrugs and reclaims his drink.

Dave chuckles and falls on his seat, running a hand through his short hair. "I told you, he fits this place. Hell, he's the hottest guy in here."

"Fuck yeah," Sebastian lets out, and his eyes widen when he realizes what he just said.

He downs his drink swiftly. At least Hummel wasn't here to hear that.

"Can't wait to let Kurt know," Dave says.

Only the last shred of pride Sebastian has left in him prevents his head from hitting the table. He says nothing, because you can't argue with the truth.

Kurt Hummel is the hottest guy.

**Santana**

This evening is such a bore. Not much of a surprise, every high school reunion ends up a letdown. Such a hype, a frantic preparation, only to end up realizing that no one is up to a lot and that their lives are just the same as they always were.

"Should have pulled a Romy and Michelle stint," Santana sighs under her breath. That would have put some excitement in this snooze fest. She picks at her thumbnail, glances down and notices a chip in her blood red nail polish. Great.

She slumps down on the plushy chair, deflated. When she looks up and sees Dave, in the same spot that he's been since they arrived, the furthest corner of the ballroom, almost hidden behind the large ficus. Poor Karofsky, dragged here by an overly enthusiastic Hummel. He probably wishes they were back in New York, like she is. God he looks so uncomfortable, fidgeting on his chair and running his hand through his hair without pause.

She gets it. How could he bear being here, surrounded by people who remind him of his worst years? He's allowed to be afraid, flinching every time someone comes close.

There isn't much she can do, they can only wait for the evening to come to an end. So she hides her care behind indifferent eyes and a sneer, glances at times to assess his state but leaves him alone.

"Santana Lopez, como esta?"

She glances sideways and groans. "Beat it, Puck, I'm not in the mood for your approximate Spanish."

"Feisty, like always." Puck pulls out the nearest chair and sits down. "What have you been up to, Lopez?"

She scoffs, kicking his chair further away. "Better, bigger things than you, that's for sure."

Not exactly true, she's learned through the grapevines about Puck's impressive progress in the army. Meanwhile her singing dream, while very much alive, is pretty much just that, a dream.

Puck, or anyone else here, doesn't need to know that though. She boasts about her gigs, makes them more important than the small, very rare engagements that they really were. But it's her prerogative. She is better than most, if not all of them. The world is just slow to catch up.

"Good for you, Lopez."

"Damn right," she says, leaning back and looking around.

Her "put up a front game" is still strong.

She keeps it up throughout the uneventful evening. It's not exactly a hoax or a lie, it's a parade. It's putting on a brave face.

It's working to some extent, gains her smiles that almost reach the eyes. It's entertainment enough.

Until Dave climbs onstage, pulls Kurt up there with him and demands the silence. That piques her interest, makes her sit straight up and stop Sara's (or Sandra's, who knows) litany.

"Hi. Hi everyone."

His greeting is met with mostly indifferent looks and the chatter diminishes but doesn't disappear completely.

Dave shuffles on his feet. "Okay well…" He chuckles, the sound loud and awkward in the microphone. Kurt stands motionless next to him and with a blank stare to match most of the people.

"Karofsky, what the hell," Santana mutters. The second-hand embarrassment is already starting to get to her in cold waves. Plus she hates to see him on the spot like this.

She gets up in a rush, this close to run to the stage and find a reason, any reason, to get him out of there.

"I… I don't want to take up too much of your time, I know it's you guys' evening and all but…" Dave clears his throat and readjusts the mike. "I have a couple of things to say and I feel this is the right place so…"

Santana sits back down, a frown marring her face. Dave's tone has taken a turn for the assured, quieting her worry. Might as well see where this goes.

The room falls silent, or close enough to it for Dave to continue.

"Yeah so I think you all remember me, and how… How I left McKinley, and why. I shouldn't be here today, I didn't even graduate from here but this guy, he says," looking fondly at Kurt, "asked me to be his date so here I am."

There's a few murmurs, a single cough from the far end of the room. A discouraging and belittling response, and Santana wiggles on her seat.

"Back when I was a McKinley student," Dave continues, undeterred, "I was afraid. I didn't know who I was, didn't know a lot of things. I had to be educated."

Dave takes a deep breath, matched by Kurt who takes a step towards him, tangling their fingers with an uncertain smile on.

No hesitance in Dave's grip, on the contrary he pulls him even closer.

"I did learn, and got better, and apologized. And he helped me through a lot of it, and forgave me when he had little reason to do so. He even loves me now, and I'm thankful for that every day."

Kurt blushes and looks down and Santana rolls her eyes. Too schmoopy, even for a night like this one.

Dave unhooks the mike and turns towards Kurt. "Kurt, I'm not afraid, haven't been for a long time. " He brings their joined hands to his lips and nods towards the crowd. "Hell I could even face my past by coming back here with you. With you I feel like I can take on the world, and what I'm trying to say is," he kneels on the stage, "will you do this with me, face the world, together, for the rest of our lives?"

Whispers are louder this time, along with some catcalls, some disapproving exclamations. Santana just stares agape, at the couple onstage. Mostly she looks at Dave, confident, radiant, smiling and keeping Kurt's hand in his steadfastly.

She registers Kurt's frantic  _yes!_ , barely, and sinks down on her chair.

"Never knew he had it in him," she whispers to herself.

Everyone is talking at once now, commenting, not very nicely for some, on the scene that just happened. She ignores it in favor of watching Dave being impervious to the commotion, all wrapped up, figuratively and literally, in Kurt.

She stares down, at her chipped polish. Suddenly her tales, her façade, their foolishness and insignificance hit her. In comparison to Dave's sudden display…

There is a difference between bravado and bravery. She finds out that Dave is the brave one.

**Paul**

It's unreal, a scene from a dream or an alternate reality. Paul has to put one hand on the doorframe, nails scratching the fatigued paint, to get some sense of reality and remind him that it's true.

He knew it was true, of course he knew. The phone call at 4 am, the trembling voice announcing the news, that couldn't be faked. An emotional plane ride later and now it's tangible, frighteningly so.

He doesn't know where to look, how to act. Crying seems like a valid option. He might be a prominent lawyer, a reserved man as well, right now he feels vulnerable and as fragile as blown glass.

The memories don't help, since the last time he was in a hospital room there were tears as well, brought on by the panic of coming so close to losing his only son. And now…

Little Suzie, a single day old and two months premature, hooked up to so many tubes and machines, in isolation. Penny, their surrogate, is doing fine, resting in the next room. Paul checked on her but stayed outside the room. She already had her entire family around her and he felt like he was intruding. Besides he was actually needed in here, with Burt and Carole in Europe and unable to travel back as quickly.

Breathe. Deep, steady breaths. In an out, Paul lets the air fill his lungs and tries to get a grip on things again. He needs to be in control right now. His son needs his dad and his support. Once again.

He's not quite ready but forces his legs to move and bring him into the room, enough to reach the plastic chair. He doesn't so much sit as much as he falls on it and he stays there, stunned, quiet. Dave and Kurt don't even notice him. Paul notice them of course, and while his body and mind catch up and try to get pieced back up, he observes the couple huddled up in the corner of the room.

"I… I don't know David, I don't know what to do… What  _can_  we do?"

Kurt's voice, cut off by small sobs, is already more than Paul can withstand. He can't begin to imagine how it must be for Dave.

"We can love her. We don't have to do more than this." Dave wraps his arms around Kurt's waist. "We love her, we let the doctors work. She will be fine."

Kurt draws a shaky breath, stiff in Dave's embrace. "You promise?"

"I can't do that. But I can believe it," Dave says. He tightens his grip and Kurt visibly relaxes, slumping against Dave's chest.

"She's so small, David, I…"

Paul misses the end of the sentence, Kurt turning his head and hiding it in Dave's neck with a quiet whimper. His own head falls into his hands, briefly. He pushes through, lifts gaze from the floor to his son.

"I'm here," Dave whispers, carding his fingers through Kurt's hair. "I'm here," he repeats. He plants comforting kisses, gentles presses of his lip, along Kurt's hairline. "We will make it and so will she. Our little girl is strong."

Kurt nods, a silent sob his only reply. Dave doesn't let him go anywhere, cradles his head in his palm and holding him as close as possible. He looks up, at last making eye contact with his father.

Paul scrambles to find the words, any words, to comfort his son. "I…"

Nothing, no words come to him. Just like years ago, when he could only hold his son's hand and watch him recover, in silence.

"It's okay Dad," Dave says. His voice is steady, steadier than Paul's could ever be in this moment.

Dave smiles, as if to reassure Paul. Which is crazy, that's his son, his little boy, who's going through a terrible time and yet he's… Bearing it. There is a cloud over his eyes, his mouth turned downward shows off his concern and pain, but he's bearing it all, better than anyone else.

Kurt clings to Dave's shirt, breathing still shallow and unnerved, and Dave's attention returns to his husband.

"I love you, Kurt. Don't worry, I'm here." He resumes his gentle caresses, up and down Kurt's back.

Paul remains rooted in his seat. They might need him, later, but not now. No, right now Kurt has a rock, an anchor in Dave, and Dave is standing strong.

Seeing them embraced, Kurt finding the comfort he needs and Dave being able to provide it, Paul sees what he always hoped for his son. Strength.

Maybe it was always there. Considering everything Dave went through, and overcame, it must have been. But it's now, in his and Kurt's most uncertain hour, and here, in this gloomy hospital room, that Paul truly sees it shine.

…

It's the little things, but they leave a lasting impression. Those details always pop into their mind when they get asked about Dave, Kurt, or them as a couple.

"You guys will love them. Dave looks tough but he's a softie. Completely armoured with Kurt, it's gross. And cute."

"Enamored. Just like you sweetie. With me I mean."

"Kurt doesn't want that, I'm telling you, it's too organized a party. Trust me, he's got that impulsive side to him…"

"Kurt? Hot. Yeah, definitely hot. … Yes I know he's my best friend's husband but have you seen him move?"

"Dave's fearless. Yes, it's coming from me. You want him on your team."

"I have a son. Well, two sons now, my son Dave and his husband Kurt. Yeah, for a quite some time now. I know, it's rare these days, but they make it work, they have a very strong marriage. Then again, David is the strongest man I've ever known."


End file.
